Burnt
by HannahSongla
Summary: Gale comes back to visit Katniss in district twelve, and something rekindles between them. Post Mockingjay. AU.
1. Burnt

note:  
AU where Gale comes back and visits Katniss while she's still very depressed in 12, post mockingjay. Otherwise very canon, you'll see later.

'_Cause I don't stand a chance in these four walls._  
_And he don't recognize me anymore._  
_Burned out flames should never re-ignite._  
_But I thought you might…_

Ch. 1  
Burned Out

I don't know how long it's been since I've returned to twelve, or how long it's been since I haven't left this chair. I haven't bothered counting the days. I awoke early this morning, before the sun had risen. The room was filled with the shadows of pre-dawn, the flames in the fireplace had long burned out, and Greasy Sae hadn't arrived yet. She usually waited until the sun was well into the sky to return, lighting the fire and fixing breakfast for me. While waiting for her I stare into the darkness, and eventually out the window, where the sun made it's slow ascent into the morning. The sky lights up with the special orange-ish pink Peeta once confessed he had trouble capturing in his paintings. I tear my eyes away from the window before reminders of him can dig up memories. Memories that, at their worst, can leave me gasping for air. I turn my focus to the hearth, trying to conjure up imaginary flames.

Some time later, the front door opens, and three sets of footsteps make their way into my house. There's Greasy Sae, whose tread is light and steady, and her granddaughter, whose feet take smaller, quicker steps to keep up. Following them is a pair of boots, making somewhat more noise in their dull thuds than the other two. At the sound of them, I feel my heart takes off, and I wonder if it really could be. Wonder if he had really returned from the capital. I consider briefly if I should get up, but quickly rule it out. I feel as though I should get out of the chair for myself before anybody else. How long have I gone without bathing? I would feel embarrassed, but I can't muster up the feeling from anywhere. I wait for them to come to me.

My eyes widen, shocked that it isn't the blonde and somewhat disheveled boy I had been expecting. Instead Gale, tall, thin, but healthily filled out stands before me. My throat constricts at the sight of him, but my eyes refuse to tear away. I almost convince myself he's a hallucination, a product of my damaged mind. I catch Sae exchanges a knowing glance with him, and my wishful thinking theory is proved wrong. I should have known it was Gale, with his light tread that somehow stays muted out of the forest and with heavy boots on, even on the wood floors. But why would he come back? We haven't spoken since I assassinated Coin, and our friendship had been long deteriorating beforehand. A long list of transgressions between us starts to form in my head. Coin, Peeta, Prim…

Prim. At the thought of her, tears threaten to trickle from my eyes, but I blink a few times, holding them back. All of them are looking at me, evaluating my reaction. The only feeling I have to offer is irritation. Especially at Gale, who has this almost pitied look on his face. I slowly leverage myself out of the chair with shaky arms, the shawl previously wrapping me falling to the floor. This feels like feat, and I continue my roll of progress by deliberately walking around them, and upstairs, to my bedroom. I gently shut the door behind myself before standing, frozen, letting the tears that were brimming run down my cheeks. Resisting the urge to curl up into a ball, I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I let it run until the room is filled with steam before I climb in. I scrub myself raw before I sit down, silently crying, letting the water run cold. A small seed of anger blossoms in this time, at Gale for daring show up, and at Greasy Sae for letting him. I let it grow, and sit under the cold rain until I'm shivering, only getting out because there's a loud rapping on the door. I wrap a towel around myself and open the door, to see Greasy Sae standing there with her granddaughter, whose eyes are focused on something far off.

"I'm sorry Katniss." she murmurs, indicating he's still here. Still in the house where he could hear us talking. "I didn't think I could turn him away." She does look apologetic, like she truly is concerned about how this could affect my mental health. I nod, accepting her apology, and shut the door. The way Gale had looked at me earlier feel pathetic, like I was a sick animal. I guess I looked the part. My hair, some new from regrowth, some old and damaged, had formed thick knots, and I'm sure I didn't smell the best before the shower. My patchwork skin was presumably grimey, and I had been wearing the same clothes that I'd left in. Gale had probably noticed. I take my time brushing out my hair and rubbing fancy lotions from my days as a victor that needed prepping onto my tender skin. Finally, I pick out a simple outfit, pants and a sweater, before heading back downstairs. In the kitchen, Sae is cleaning up the mess from preparing the two plates of eggs and toast on the table. Gale sits at one of them.

I tentatively lower myself into the chair across from him, carefully inspecting the food instead of meeting his gaze. His grey seam eyes try their hardest to meet my own, but I refuse to let them. Even so, the anger I felt before is wilting, as I have nothing to feed it. Nothing is left in me, nothing of meaning, anyhow. I am just a body with memories. Memories of what seems to be a lifetime crammed into a couple years. Memories of death, loss, war. They consume every bit of my being, rendering me useless. I begin to pick at the food, but Gale doesn't touch it. I can feel him staring at me still, and an echo of irritation stirs up inside me.

"Hey, Catnip." Is all he mumbles when he finally speaks. I snap my eyes up to meet his. I should be angry that he dares call me that after months of no contact. After all, I thought he was done with me. Instead it feels soothing, like things are normal. Like I can fool myself into feeling ordinary again. Part of me wishes we can go back to before the games, before the war, but we can't, and my chest aches with the truth. Gale killed...her. Gale became a bloodthirsty man in the war. But having him in front of me makes me realize I want to forget. I'm willing to forget, just to feel happy again.

"Hey, Gale." My voice is scratches through my throat as a result of disuse. Though I cough to clear it, Gale's pitied...no, saddened look makes a reappearance. The irritation within me reignites fully. Some of it is him, but I know a lot of it has to do with myself, for being too willing to push aside the past for him. Part of me actually wants him to worry over me, and that makes me more angry than he ever will. I start to stuff my food into my mouth so I can return to my chair, staring into the fire, forgetting him and the things he makes me feel. But the tightness in my throat has returned, and a bit of toast gets caught in my throat, causing a coughing fit which only makes Gale look even more troubled. I give up and just look at him, emotionless. I'm not his to worry over, and if he was so concerned, why hadn't he come to visit earlier, or even call?

"I tried calling." He mumbles, as if he read my mind. I guess it could be true, I hadn't even touched the phone since I got home. I had been ignoring it, hadn't I? I refuse to believe him though. He had some important job to do in the government. Why would he call? Why was he even here? "I just wanted to check up on you. I got worried." Somehow, the words don't seem genuine. I don't want them to be genuine. Evidence from the past indicates that they aren't. I reply with a scoff, which only makes him purse his lips. Sae clears her throat, and we both whip our heads to look at her, having forgotten she was there.

"I'm leaving for now, I'll be back later." She gathers her granddaughter and starts heading out the door, only calling behind herself to add "Make sure she finishes her food, Gale!" Adding an uncomfortable laugh before closing the door.

"Katniss…" Now that Sae is gone, Gale's face contorts into a look of hurt that brings tears to my eyes. I suddenly regret being so cruel and unforgiving. Him being in pain will always be my weakness. He looks on the verge of tears himself, which is so unlike Gale, and I'm taken aback. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about...everything." His voice catches a few times, but the tears don't run down his cheeks. Instead, they flow down mine. I offer up a lame acceptance of his apology before I fall apart completely. He stands up and walks towards me, arms extended, and I gladly get up and stumble into his embrace, sobs wracking my body as soon as his arms wrap around me.

We stand there for an unmeasurable amount of time, no expectations, only comfort. He's stroking my hair, I'm clutching to him like my life depends on it. When Gale held me before the war, I felt so safe. I try to let the feeling come now, and though it doesn't, the closeness is nice. We don't break apart until long after my tears have stopped, and we sit back down at the table. The crying paired with the embrace has had an cathartic effect on me, and I feel better than I have in a long while. Gale makes sure I eat while still not touching his own food. I raise an eyebrow in question, but he just shakes his head. After my last bite, he breaks the silence.

"It's a great day for hunting." He comments, and I follow his gaze out the window. The sun is still making it's ascent into the sky, it's at least 4 hours until noon. I catch his gaze again and give him a small smile. We hadn't hunted together since living in thirteen. It seems like a lifetime ago, even though it can't be more than a few months. Or maybe a year. I've lost track of the time. I have no idea how many months I have sat here next to the hearth, or how many months I was hidden away while my trial was going on without me. The idea of going outside, after all this time, has some appeal.

"We could go hunting" I offer up after short silence, before remembering that I have no bows. Suddenly unsure if I'm up for this, I start to back out. Gale cuts me off with a smile.

"I brought our bows, the one's your father made, back from 13." He says, and I give him another small smile, this time in appreciation. I was afraid I'd never see them again. He get's up and starts heading towards the front door, throwing a look over his shoulder at me when I don't follow. "Well, are we going?" He asks, the same playful smile on his lips. I nod, and follow him to the front door, where a box sits, with my father's hunting jacket, the plant book, the bows and few other items from our compartment in 13. For the first time since Prim died, a small spark of happiness ignites inside me from the familiarity, before quickly fizzling out, leaving a shadow I desperately try to cling to.


	2. Regret

(If you want a playlist to read this to, visit my profile)

_I can't forget it, though I've tried_

_I know you regret it, love,_

_You told me so many times._

**Ch. 2**

**Regret**

I indulge Gale and soon we're out of the house, through the victor's village and walking slowly towards the meadow. He seems pleased that we're going, his grey eyes have lit up with anticipation, and every few minutes he looks back at me, and smiles. I try to mirror the sentiment, with varying success. Gale takes special care to avoid parts of town not yet touched by reconstruction. As we walk through the new neighborhoods, I marvel at houses being built with materials provided by the new Capitol. There are a few completed houses by some incomplete frames, made with bricks and adorned with actual siding like the ones in the victor's village. It's a vast improvement from the shacks and decrepit buildings that stood before. Though these improvements are everywhere I look, its impossible to avoid the faint smell of ashes and burned buildings that still hangs in the air. We still see glimpses of the torched parts of town, and I swear I see a bone here or there. By the time we reach the meadow my stomach is tight with doubt about the whole venture. Despite half of me wanting to return home and curl up by the fire, I follow Gale into the woods.

Once we've made it deep into the wilderness, I hold my bow, stoic, ready to let loose an arrow at the sight of any game. A squirrel scurries by, and though I follow it with my arrow, I don't shoot. A stag walks by, but my hand hesitates, and then hes gone. I finally give up trying when I can't bring myself to shoot a lazy turkey waddling by in plain sight. Nearby, Gale is busy setting up traps, too absorbed to notice my inability to shoot. He doesn't even turn when a leaf crunches under my foot when I step towards him. I open my mouth, about to ask him if we can return home, but stop short. I'm overcome with dizziness, and I crouch down hands cradling my face, trying to steady my vision. When the world decides to stop spinning under me, I look up, and Gale hasn't even lifted his eyes from his work. I can just see his face from where I'm crouching. His eyes are calculating, analytical. His brow furrows in concentration. This is the man who designed the weapon that killed my sister. Even with my best efforts, I cannot find the boy I met years ago. I can't find my best friend.

I do want to find him. I desperately want to find the old Gale, the one who isn't hardened by war. I want to forgive him, and I want nothing more than to forget. I want Gale to hold me, I want him to fill the empty spaces in me. Despite this, his transgressions refuse to back down in my mind. The words swirl around and I can't push them out. _...Prim, Coin, Peeta…_ They march to the beat of my heart, drumming into my mind. I know it's unfair to blame Gale for something he had no idea would kill somebody I love. But still, the fact that he designed such a thing bothers me. He offered an apology, and I had accepted it, but somehow, it wasn't enough. It was never enough for me, and I hated myself for it. Gale stands, observing his work for a bit before turning to me.

His satisfied look falters upon seeing me, and I realize how crazy I must look, clutching my face, staring at him like he's a difficult math problem I'm trying to solve. Despite this, I can't pull myself out of the crouch, and a whimper escapes from my mouth. All this thinking about Prim and the war has brought the tears back, and I struggle not to outright sob. It's not like I can hide my condition of my mind, I've displayed it several times already to him today. Even so, I don't want him to see me like this. I'm unstable, crying, curled up and defenseless. I don't want that to be the way he sees me.

Gale is watching me, worry written on his features, unsure whether to comfort me or let me pull myself together. When it becomes apparent I won't stop crying, he crouches next me, wrapping his around me, pulling my quivering body closer to his own. The tears still coming, soaking a wet spot onto his shirt.

"I'm sorry Katniss." He whispers, over and over. I want to accept it, and I wish it made everything better. He rubs my back with one hand, the other alternates between cradling my head and stroking my hair. When I finally quiet, we sit for a while, listening to the forest. I jump when his trap suddenly snaps, and a rabbit gets pulled into the air, writhing with panic. We both watch it for a while. At first I feel indifferent. It' just like any other animal I've killed. But as I watch it squirming in it's panic, a sick feeling establishes itself in my stomach. I tear my eyes away, and sensing my unease, Gale asks if I want to leave. I try to say yes, but no sound comes out. I try again, and only a strangled moan makes it's way out of my mouth. Gale sighs and stands up. He quickly lets the rabbit free, and then before I can protest, scoops me up and starts back towards town.

An exhaustion induced by 2 bouts of crying has sweeps over me, and sometime between the town and home I fell asleep. For once, I dreamt of something that didn't make me scream myself awake. In my dream, I was running through the forest. Unlike many of my dreams that I'd had recently, I wasn't running away from anything. I was just running, for the joy of it. I glanced behind myself, and there was nothing, only blackness. But it wasn't scary, or enveloping, in fact I only felt relief. The more I ran, the farther away I got from this blackness. After a while, I saw Gale ahead of me. His arms were outstretched, and I felt a beckoning force coming from him, and I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. Before I could reach him, I felt myself fading out of the dream and into reality. When my eyes flutter open, Gale is sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling down at me. I'm aware of my blanket tucked around me, undisturbed. Although it's fairly simple, it's hard to take in.

"How long was I out?" I ask, groggy, unsure what to feel about everything that had happened today. Outside the window, the sun is setting. Was I really gone that long?

"A few hours." Gale chuckles to himself. "You slept like a log." He's still smiling, and I wish I could smile back just as easily. I let the corners of my mouth twitch, but it feels unnatural, and I give up. Gale reaches out, as if to touch me, but then retracts his hand. I wish he had touched me.

"What did you do while I was asleep?" I ask. If I was like my old self, I'd be incredulous. Now my voice just sounds empty. I hope he didn't watch me sleep. Gale just smiles.

"I went to town and bought some food. Sae stopped by, but I told her I would make dinner. Haymitch stopped by, too. I guess from the smell he went back to being a drunk." Gale is talking as if this is all normal. I don't mention that Haymitch hadn't bothered to stop by before now. I don't mention that I had been having insufferable nightmares before. Instead I stare at him, a twinge of irritation growing at how easily he talked of other's demons consuming them. How easily he brushed aside my pain, acting as if it's all normal. As if I can be fixed with an apology, a day in the woods, and dinner cooked for me.

Of course, I want it all to be that simple. But it can't be.

Note: Sorry if this is too out of character. Thank you for all the reviews so far! I really appreciate them all. I'm getting back in the swing of writing, so sorry if my rustiness shows.


	3. Monster

Note: Sorry this took so long to get out! Hopefully the length makes up for it. I decided to combine 3 chapters into this one. It gets somewhat lemon-y at the end, nothing worse than shirts being removed though. Hope you like it! Also, sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I am super excited to finally get this chapter out.

_under you a monster grew_

**Ch. 3**

**Monster**

It's my turn to speak, but this new found anger has sparked in me, and I can't bring myself to. I'm actually somewhat shocked that it's there. It's the first steady, unwavering feeling I've had in months. Something about how he spoke of Haymitch rubs me the wrong way, even though I know it's true. Even if Haymitch is a sad drunk, Gale should be able to understand why. If he doesn't, why is he still here? Tolerating a girl who can fall apart with the utterings of a few words, whose own thoughts can work her into hysteria?

I have to remind myself that, yes, we were friends once. It seems like a lifetime ago, but friends stick together. I guess. Gale hadn't made much of an effort until now. I'm being ridiculous, I know it. He apologized, he probably felt awful, and was afraid to confront me. But the longer I sit here, looking at him, in this infuriating silence, I come to realize I do not forgive him. I've forgiven him as a person, I guess, I don't blame him for what's happened to Prim. It wasn't his fault she was there. But I haven't forgiven him for what he became in the war. I swallow, my throat tight, and tears sting in my eyes. I guess Gale has sensed something is wrong, because he has that look on his face again. The concerned look.

I want him to leave. I want to figure out what I feel about him, and everything else, and I can't do that while he's here. He makes no sign of moving, though, and instead he looks like he's about to cry again. I know I can't handle it, and the anger I felt earlier is starting to ebb. I still can't speak, and I wish I could will him out of the room with my mind, or a look. It's no use, he isn't looking at me anymore, but instead his hands, which are folded with his palms upwards, as if he can find solace there. I give up, closing my eyes to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." his voice is hoarse, and I think he really is crying. I can feel him gazing at me, even through closed eyes, and I pretend that I'm already asleep, and that his words are lost on me. I really don't know what to do with another apology. I just want him to go. Go away. Go home. Go downstairs. Just let me sleep. He isn't fooled. He's still looking at me, I can feel it. A few minutes later, I let out a sigh and open my eyes. Gale doesn't make a sound, and I'm afraid to look in his eyes. I train my focus on the ceiling, perfect plaster, undisturbed even after almost 80 years of standing here. I wish it had the answers I needed right now, and I try to pull the words I need to tell Gale out of it, but to no avail.

"I know...I know you're sorry." There's no emotion in my voice, but what can I do? I can't just kick him out, and I can't lie to him and say it's okay either. Gale doesn't react, and when I finally turn to look at him, I'm surprised to find a new emotion on his face. Not sadness, not understanding, but anger. I'm taken aback, it was the last thing I expected. He'd been patient with me the whole day.

"Then what do you want me to do?" His voice bites into me, causing my lips to tremble. I only allow a second of hurt to register, then I fight back with my own fury, the same breed as earlier, letting it fill my body. I blindly follow it, letting it tear off the blanket, following it off the bed. It doesn't want me to stay here, in the same room as him. I'm about to stand when Gale catches my arm. It's a light touch really, probably for my betterment, but I yank myself from his grasp as if it burned. He just looks at me, somewhat shocked.

"Leave. Please." I finally manage to croak out after a long stalemate. Gale doesn't move, which just infuriates me more. He wanted to know, and I told him. Why is he still here? "I SAID LEAVE!" ...I really didn't mean to yell so loud. Gale continues to look at me. I can almost see his own anger burning behind his eyes, feel the heat they contain.

"You want me to leave now?" His voice is razor sharp, his eyes piercing. He barks out a sudden laugh that makes me jump. "Whatever happened to you always wanting me by your side?"

"It was different, then." My voice matches his own sharpness, two can play this game.

"I want it to be the same now." He sounds a little sad. He sounds like he'll back down. I don't want to let him.

"It can't be." No, I won't let him. He responds with a moment of silence.

"I know." Defeat reflects in his voice, but I'm still not finished.

"Then why are you here?" I want a real answer.

"I miss you, Katniss." If I wasn't so angry, I would back down. But I'm not satisfied.

"And what's exactly kept you from visiting?" It's not that I don't know, I just want to hear him say it.

"I felt bad...guilty...about Prim." He looks at me, expecting rebuttal, but I've gotten what I wanted. He could have told me sorry a million times, begged forgiveness, but they would have meant nothing without him addressing her name. Apparently he isn't done speaking. "You know she was like a sister to me too." I would have been happy if he ended it there, but he just had to continue, try to make me see his side.

"I know that." I whisper. Fury is burning so hot inside me, I'm afraid I might explode. "But why did it have to take Prim dying for you to have the slightest inclination what you designed might have been wrong?" My voice raises barely above a whisper. Gale looks a little shocked, like it hadn't occurred to him before that this might be what bothered me. "Why are you only sorry for Prim?" My voice is raising. "Why aren't you sorry for every innocent person of the capital that died?!" I'm standing, anger welling, boiling over inside me. I'm almost screaming. "WHY ARE YOU SAYING SORRY TO ME?" Gale sits silent, allowing for me to continue, but I can't. My anger is spent, leaving me panting, finally looking down at him. Before, I was blind with anger, but now I see tears brimming in his eyes.

"If you think I don't feel bad for every death I caused, you're wrong." His voice is shakey, like he's fighting to keep it from breaking. "It took Prim dying for me to realize the full...magnitude of my actions, my weapons." More tears run down his cheeks, but he refuses to look away from me. "I was so ashamed. I thought I could never face you again. But, I realized I had to." He purses his lips, and I search his eyes, unsure what to think. He sounds genuine, and the want to believe him, to forgive him stirs up inside me. I feel horrible for my outburst. "I need you, Katniss. I'm sorry."

The last remnants of my anger melt away. Tears of my own, and I finally walk forward, letting forehead rest against his own. My hands find his neck and rest there, my thumbs wipe away his tears, and he pulls me close. I don't quite forgive him for everything, not yet. But I can't stand for Gale to be in any more pain caused by me, and I resolve to try my hardest to see things from his point of view before getting angry. I start to pull back, ready to apologize for my own actions when Gale's lips brush against my own.

At first I'm shocked, and I jerk away, back up, and he stands sheepishly. The kiss caught me off guard, and it takes a few minutes of looking at him, studying him, to realize I want to kiss him. He seems to sense this, and wraps me up in his arms, kiss again. I let myself get lost in them, loving how soft and tender they are. I realize, a little self consciously, that my lips are chapped, but Gale doesn't seem to mind, in fact he is becoming more hungry and insistent the longer we kiss. Soon he's kissing me harder than I've ever been kissed before, and I let him, revelling in the passion, hungry after so long without such contact. He bites my lip, and I let him. Our tongues soon dance together, each exploring the other. It takes me a while to register that he's nudging me back to the bed, but I oblige, stumbling into it, falling onto the mattress, but we don't care enough to separate. Gale's hands become entangled into my hair, and my arms find their way around his neck, and for a while we're content, him on top of me, I holding him close.

After a while it isn't enough. I desperately want him closer, so I wrap my legs around his waist. He inhales sharply at this, but doesn't protest, instead he lifts me up, and moves me to the center of the bed, which is much more comfortable than the edge we were pressed against. We pull apart briefly, and he uses this time to take off my shirt, and wastes no time exploring my body once it's off. He resumes kissing but doesn't stray on my lips for long this time, instead he makes his way from the corner of my mouth, down my neck, leaving little bites on my collarbone, which have become much more prominent with months of minimal eating. He kisses his way down my chest, down my stomach, and stops above my belly button before returning to my lips. It's my turn to explore now, and his shirt quickly joins mine in a heap on the floor. He pulls away, and I take a moment to admire his body, toned and slender, his olive skin pulled in the just the right way over supple muscles.

I suddenly feel inadequate. My hip bones protrude, almost as bad as my first time in the arena, and laying here it feels as though my rib cage my burst out of my skin. I'm not exactly a bag of bones, but I don't have as many curves as I should, and I'm afraid Gale will notice, and worry. If he does, he doesn't show it, and instead whispers little phrases such as perfect and you're beautiful between long kisses. My cold hands seek the warmth of his body, and they explore, switching between running down his chest and scratching ever so lightly down his arms and back. I think he likes this, because when I do it, he shivers, and his kisses become more fervent, if that's even possible.

He is starting to unbutton my pants when he stops himself, and pulls away. It takes all my will not to beg him to come back, and before I can think, a don't stop slips from my mouth. He gives me a sad smile, but sits back, looking at me, analyzing me like I'm a complicated snare or something. I sit up suddenly, worried I did something to repulse him. I want him to come back and kiss me, come and be close. I'd missed being close to someone all these months. Didn't he realize? Peeta probably wasn't coming back, not completely, anyhow, and probably wouldn't ever love me again. I just wanted Gale right now. Couldn't he understand that? After a long silence filled with our eyes searching eachother, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

"What?" I ask, and I can't figure out if I'm more hurt or confused. There's a third feeling in there, and I think it's offense. Gale just shakes his head again.

"I can't do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. Plus we were just yelling at each other." He looks to me, hoping I'll understand. I feel like crying again instead. "It just doesn't feel right."

"It feels right to me." I mumble, but I don't know if it's the truth. I just got lost in the moment, and now there's a sinking feeling I can't identify coming down in my stomach. I don't know if it's disappointment or relief, or something else completely. I still pout though, which makes Gale laugh a little. He strokes my now messy hair as if attempting to smooth it down, and smiles. I can't bring myself to return it. I remember a time we kissed in the woods of district 2, and he compared it to kissing a drunk. Was that what it was like just now? Was he repulsed by my kissing?

Something tells me that isn't the case. All the kissing, yelling, and crying has left me exhausted, though, and I lay down, grabbing Gales hand and pulling him down with me. He doesn't object, and his arms find their way around my waist, his lips in my hair, and I can almost feel him inhaling me in. It's strangely intimate, and it makes up for the sudden cut off in our moment. Somewhat. I'm still turned on, I can tell Gale is too, which confuses me even more. Didn't he want me? I consider for a moment asking him for a better answer, how exactly it doesn't feel right, but resolve to stay quiet. I'm too tired to speak anyhow, and spend the rest of my waking moments studying his hands, big and warm, enveloping my own, and fall asleep.

When I awake, his side of the bed is cold. He is gone.

Note: Again, hope this wasn't too out of character. More chapters to come with break, and possibly a new fic starring Madge? Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for the feedback on the previous chapters :)


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